


Whatever It Takes

by Cari2812



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Angst, Cormoran is a bit silly, F/M, Hurt, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-23 00:04:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cari2812/pseuds/Cari2812
Summary: Alcohol (and football) lead one thing beautifully to another. Cormoran's silliness leads said beautiful thing into a big ol' mess.





	1. Unwelcome Discovery

There’s a million reasons for you to go,  
But if you can find a reason to stay,  
I’ll do whatever it takes,  
To turn this around,  
I know what’s at stake,  
I know that I’ve let you down  
Lifehouse – Whatever It Takes 

***

The pub erupted into raucous cheering and shouting, with Robin being jostled roughly by the ecstatic crowd. Cormoran slung a protective arm around her shoulder as he joined in with the celebrations, earning him a beaming smile from his partner. It might have been the seven pints of Doom Bar on a relatively empty stomach, or the long awaited and eagerly anticipated Arsenal win, or potentially the knowledge that his tenner bet on the match had came good, but he swore she had never looked more beautiful. Her wide grin and melodious laughter, as sweet as his favourite song. Something dangerous tugged at his heart, and at this very moment, he could find no tangible reason why this wasn't the perfect opportunity. Before he even knew it, before he could berate himself for being quite so stupid, or list all the reasons under the sun that this was the worst idea imaginable, his lips were on hers. Passionate, insistent, wanting.

The issue was, she was kissing him back. Her hands had found their way to his head, raking through his hair and cradling his jaw. The crowd had melted away, and all he could hear was the hammering of his own heart as the blood pumped past his ears. This was impossible. She was impossible, in the most perfect way imaginable. When their lips parted, he rested his forehead against hers, staring deep into those ocean eyes, diving right in. 

“I want this, Robin. I want you,” he declared, a hand either side of her burning cheeks. Her eyes closed, and a single tear escaped, which he brushed away tenderly with his thumb.  
“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear this,” she whispered, for only him to hear. After kissing him again, she pulled back with a wicked darkness in her eyes. Brushing her cheek against his, she whispered in his ear:  
“Take me home, Cormoran.”

He took a hold of her hand and led her through the crowd. He didn’t need asking twice. 

****  
The first dregs of morning sunlight teased Robin’s eyes open unwillingly. She chased sleep for a few moments more before reluctantly giving in to starting the day ahead. A dull, throbbing ache slowly crept across the front of her head, acting as an unwelcome reminder of the entire bottle of wine she’d managed to put away last night. More memories began flooding back, including the feel of lips against hers, of flesh against flesh, of passion and satisfaction like no other. A smug smile crept across her lips, and, eyes still closed, she reached out across the bed to-

Nothing.

Robin’s eyes snapped open. The other side of the bed was neatly made, with no evidence of having even been slept in save for the depression made by a head in the pillow. Had she imagined it? She thought hard, remembering desperate kisses and insistent hands lighting up her body all over like a beacon.

It had happened, alright. So, where was he? 

The room span ever so slightly as she pulled herself to standing, the throb in her head ever-present. There was no note on the bedside table, and the rest of the flat was empty, even the tiny bathroom. His clothes had been picked up off the floor, while hers still lay strewn about the room. His wallet, keys and phone also were gone. After pulling on last night’s clothes, she let herself out of the flat and descended the steps to the office, expecting Cormoran to be at his desk. She pondered for a second as she opened the door; maybe she’d waste no time and kiss him straight away? Maybe re-enact some of the finer aspects of the previous night? Her face grew pink with flirty excitement. 

She would, in fact, do none of that. Cormoran wasn’t in the inner or outer office. He wasn’t in the kitchenette or the tiny bathroom. He was gone. 

It didn't take London's finest detective, or even, in this case, the partner of said detective to work out what had happened here. Stinging with hurt, and with embarrassment smarting her eyes with tears, Robin fell into her chair and booted up her computer, swallowing the painful lump that had formed in her throat. She'd been ran out on, and at this point, with no answers or explanations to go on, Cormoran Strike had abused the trust she'd placed in him the night before in the worst possible way. 

How could he?


	2. Self-Hatred and Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cormoran reaches a resolution, which doesn't mean good things for Robin.

_She said, if we’re gonna make this work,_  
You’ve got to let me inside even though it hurts.  
Don’t hide the broken parts that I need to see.  
She said like it or not it’s the way it’s got to be.  
You’ve got to love yourself if you can ever love me.  
Lifehouse – Whatever It Takes 

***

__He’d spent much of the morning in the pub, earning disapproving looks for being the only person drinking alcohol so early in the day. He didn’t care, he was on edge and waiting for Shanker, who eventually shambled up to the little table Cormoran had secured - only twenty minutes late this time instead of his customary forty, perhaps he could sense the desperation in Cormoran’s text and recognised a need to be on time. He dropped into the empty seat, in front of the pint Cormoran had just bought him, with no thanks. This should have irked Cormoran, and if it’d been anyone else it would have, but that was just Shanker._ _

__“Well then Bunsen,” he smirked, “finally ‘appened then, eh?”_ _

__Cormoran pressed at the corner of both eyes with his thumb and forefinger, in a futile effort to relieve some of his tension. In the absence of an answer, Shanker went on,  
“If I’d managed to convince a pretty girl like that into my bed, I definitely wouldn’t be sat on my jack drinking pints at ‘alf past eleven in the morning,” he paused, “what happened, mate? She binned you off already?”_ _

__Cormoran was quiet for a long moment, staring into his pint, hoping the amber abyss would provide some kind of assistance._ _

__“I took off before she woke up,” he confessed quietly. Shanker whistled under his breath and chuckled, evidently loving every moment of his friend’s predicament.  
“Out of all the pieces of work you’ve had in your time it’s this one you decide to fuck and chuck? Jesus, Bunsen.”_ _

__“I didn’t ‘fuck and chuck’ her,” Cormoran protested, “I just…needed to think.” Shanker looked puzzled, Cormoran heaved a deep sigh and then laughed, a mirthless cackle filled with self-loathing. He stared into the middle distance, listlessly fiddling with a beer mat, with an unreadable emotion weighing heavy on his features.  
“I fucking love her, don’t I?” he conceded, realising immediately that said confession was more for the benefit of himself than anyone else in the room. He took a long, slow pull of his beer after this admission, as though to clear all trace of it from his mouth._ _

__“Yeah, I fuckin’ know that, mate. We all know that,” Shanker said, exasperated. “The only person who don’t know it is the one what should. So how are you gonna tell her, Bunsen?”  
Cormoran remained silent, deep in thought. Shanker finished his pint in four large gulps, wiping foam from his mouth with the back of his hand. _ _

__“I’m not going to tell her,” he resolved, at long last. “For loads of reasons, including but not limited to the fact that I’m too old for her, not good enough for her, and her boss. It’s never going to work out and I was stupid for even attempting to think it ever would.” Shanker didn’t answer, but shook his head slowly. He stood up to leave, a pitying expression on his face._ _

__“I’ve got to hop off, bit o’ business. But Bunsen, mate, you spent Christ knows how long with an uppity, frosty-knickered psycho and then years and years on your own. Don’t throw away a blinder when it comes for ya,” he slapped Cormoran on the back, “easy Bunsen.”  
With that, Shanker shuffled out of the pub, leaving Cormoran to his thoughts. _ _

__*****_ _

__After three hours of angry typing, Robin had calmed down slightly. She tried to think rationally; maybe he’d wanted to just let her sleep? He _was _always saying she worked too much, and persistently trying to find avenues of offering her time off. Perhaps this was his own antisocial way of giving her a break? Maybe he’d been too busy to contact all morning? After all, they _were _snowed under with clients lately._____ _

______She’d all but forgiven him, and then she heard the familiar footsteps approach the office door._ _ _ _ _ _

______The initial eye contact between them was, if anything, tense. There was no mutually affectionate glance indicating the acknowledgement of shared pleasure. There was more of an awkward ‘nod’ of affirmative that said pleasure even occurred in the first place. He remained stood at the doorway, fumbling excuses of prolonged surveillance and unexpected meetings with old friends, all quite obvious lies, But Robin was hardly listening._ _ _ _ _ _

______She panicked slightly, it wasn’t supposed to be like this._ _ _ _ _ _

______Despite having just emerged from what had eventually descended into a sexless, joyless pseudo-marriage, Robin missed the tactility of romantic relationships. The night before had reminded her what it felt like to be held, and the sensation was so powerful that she’d found herself struggling to contain her tears. Perhaps Cormoran needed to be reminded of how perfect it really was._ _ _ _ _ _

______She rose from her seat and stood in front of him, raising a hand to his cheek._ _ _ _ _ _

______He flinched away. She drew her hand back, slowly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Cormoran?” she began, uncomfortable heat beginning to rise in her cheeks. “Cormoran, kiss me?” she leaned up and inward, trying to connect her lips to his, only for him to firmly steer her backward with both hands._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Robin, no,” he said, quiet and firm. He couldn’t look her in the eye. If he did, he’d be able to pinpoint the exact millisecond in which her heart shattered. He’d never hated himself more._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Cormoran, tell me what’s wrong,” she demanded, her voice wavering only ever so slightly. He raked a hand through his hair as he walked into his office and sat down. She followed, standing in front of his desk, determined for answers._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Last night,” he began, “it shouldn’t have happened.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______There it was. A blatant lie on his part. A blatant lie that triggered the tears threatening their appearance in the corners of Robin’s eyes to show themselves._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, knees weak and fingers trembling. He really, really detested himself. He had to remind himself that in a weird way, this was for her. He was protecting her, from him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I really do. It was fun, but it was reckless, and it was unprofessional on both our parts, and it shouldn’t happen or be talked about again,” he retorted, keeping his voice calm and level, staring at his monitor to avoid looking at her pale, tearful face._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Reckless and unprofessional,” she repeated to herself in disbelief, “right”. In the space of twelve hours her life had hit its highest high and its lowest low. She realised all too quickly that she was exhausted, too exhausted to continue being rejected in slow motion. She left his office, closing the door smartly behind her. Part of her hoped that he would re-emerge as she was pulling on her jacket and picking up her bag, telling her he made a mistake, begging for forgiveness, seeking apology by way of kisses and touch._ _ _ _ _ _

______He didn’t._ _ _ _ _ _

______Crying tears she wasn’t even aware of, and feeling heartbreak incomparable to any felt before, even at the death-rattle stages of her failed marriage, she left the office, and the building, and Cormoran._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha I'm sorry guys;) I started writing this feeling very unsure about it, but I actually really enjoy how it turned out! Thank you so much for all the kudos and the lovely comments on the last chapter, you guys are ace xx


	3. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin demands answers, and eventually provides the two of them with all the answers they need.

Let’s hold on to eachother, above everything else,  
Start over.  
Lifehouse - Whatever It Takes

***

He listened out as the door clicked shut, and then silence. 

He’d done the right thing. If he knew nothing else, he knew that. She’d be okay, she’d find someone new, someone kind and handsome and young. He tried to picture Robin’s future husband, and quickly stopped himself as the only image he could conjure was that of himself wrapped around her. 

Stop it. 

He returned to his case notes. When all else was lost, the work remained. 

***

She stepped out on to Denmark Street and lifted her collar to the wind. Tears still streamed down her face, and passers by peered at her, seemingly concerned. In typical Londoner fashion, however, they continued without comment. 

She was furious with him. She repeated his words over and over, growing more and more livid with each step. 

She stopped in the street, earning herself tuts and stares from the stream of walking traffic behind her. 

Why was she here, and not getting answers? 

She turned on her heels and marched back to the office. He wasn’t getting away with this quite so easily. 

***  
The door slammed. Cormoran sighed and rose from his desk, assuming a client had arrived. He opened his office door, barely looking at who was there. 

“Good afternoon, Cormo-,” he stopped dead, “Robin?”

She looked furious, with the same look plastered on her face as at her wedding reception, so long ago. 

“I’m not leaving until you give me something valid. A reason that I can work with,” she demanded. 

Cormoran, try as he might, could not meet her fiery gaze. He decided to tempt fate. 

“What do you mean?” 

She exploded.

“You woke up, you found me in your bed, you remembered what we’d done, you freaked out and you ran away, didn’t you?” she tried to meet his eyes, but he kept them low, rooted to the floor.

“Didn’t you?” She demanded. 

“Yes! Alright? Yes, I freaked out and yes, I ran away. And no, I don’t fucking know why. Maybe it’s because I don’t think I’m enough for you, or that you’re too good for me and I’ll only mess you up, or maybe because I’ve been falling in fucking love with you for the last year and was too afraid to do all that relationship shit again!” 

The breath knocked out of Robin. Cormoran was continuing his tirade but her ears were deaf to the words he was saying, her brain only repeating his last few lines over and over in her head, turning it over and examining from all angles. 

Suddenly everything fell into place. He ran because he was scared. This big, strong, tough man got scared of her, of his feelings for her, and thought it was safer for her if he just left. How hadn’t she realised? He wasn’t rejecting her, he was protecting her. 

She interrupted his shouts with a quiet question, barely a whisper. 

“Why don’t you think you’re good enough for me?” 

He stopped mid-flow, out of breath slightly. When he resumed talking, his voice was calmer, and he spoke with clarity that suggested this was well rehearsed in his own head, as though he’d said it to himself countless times before. 

“We’re...different. You and me, we’re not the same. Sure, we’ve got the business together, and everything that comes with that. But, apart from that, we’re poles apart. You need marriage, and family, and stability,” he laughed then, pointing to himself mockingly, “and look at me; I’m pushing forty, I barely have any family and what I do have I go to great lengths to avoid, and my bank balance bungees in and out of overdraft at least three times a month. I’m the worst possible choice for a-“

She was kissing him. Fingers plunged into his hair and about his face, tongue desperately seeking his own. His body responded long before his brain, reaching for that which was so new and yet so achingly familiar. He felt moisture on his own cheek, which he soon registered was one of her tears, and something inside him cracked and fell away. This, him, that was all she needed. How could he think her so shallow to just want the idyllic life of convention, the nuclear family complete with 2.4 children, the detached house and double garage, the picket fence. Maybe, just maybe, she was content with just him. 

He backed her gently to the wall and placed a hand behind each thigh, firmly lifting her to his own height so that he could plunder the delicious space between her ear and shoulder, revelling in the knowledge that he was finally able to do just that. 

She laughed breathily, clinging tightly so he’d never leave again. 

“Knew I needed to shut you up somehow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished!! Thank you guys so much for all the support! Love you all!! A new fic will be up soon but first, I’m off on holiday:)
> 
> ** I wrote this on the train in the notes section of my phone so apologies if there are any errors**

**Author's Note:**

> First fic gaaaah! Please be gentle hahah. Constructive criticism hugely welcome! The plot is semi thought out as yet, but things tend to take their own path once I get writing, so let's just see! Love y'all x


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